


Flowers in Your Hair

by penstrikesmidnight



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Angst with a Happy Ending, Flowers, Hanahaki Disease, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Akaashi Keiji/Kuroo Tetsurou, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:02:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26746330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penstrikesmidnight/pseuds/penstrikesmidnight
Summary: Half-nymph Tooru is helping Bokuto make a love potion to give to his friend, and his body has decided to start turning into flowers because of it. So that's great. As if he didn't have enough to deal with.
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 20
Kudos: 87
Collections: Haikyuu Rarepair Exchange 2020





	Flowers in Your Hair

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SomeUnicorns](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomeUnicorns/gifts).



> This got way longer than I ever expected it to be, but I loved writing it. BokuOi is one of my favorite rarepairs. Hope you enjoy, Ursie!

Tooru studies the three boys who just walked into the shop. They're all arresting in their own way--the first, a classic beauty, dark hair, slate gray eyes, perfectly sculpted features. The next, tall, dark, and brooding, hair a messy disaster that covers part of his face. And the last, broad and happy, exuding energy, clearly the most excitable of the three. His hair is spiked, gray and black, and Tooru wonders if it's natural or if he dyes it like that on purpose.

"Welcome in," Tooru says, suppressing a sigh. Just looking at them makes him exhausted.

"Hey, hey, hey!" the spiky haired boy says, bounding toward the counter. "Whoa, you have flowers in your hair."

Tooru instinctually recoils, definitely not in the mood to be touched by strangers. But the boy doesn't reach over the counter like most people tend to do. Instead, he just admires from where he is on the other side. "Do they grow in like that?"

Tooru shrugs, glancing over to the other two, but they've gone to the far side of the shop, browsing through Tooru's collection of feathers. He should probably go ask them if he can help. They'd get out of there faster if he did.

Instead, he turns back to the exuberant boy in front of him. "Yeah. I'm half-nymph."

"Awesome! I've never met a nymph before. Akaashi's part siren, and I have a friend who can shapeshift into a cat. I always wanted wings. Wouldn't it be cool to have wings?"

Tooru gives a thin smile and hums what could be approval. As the boy continues chatting him up, Tooru's eyes flick over to where the other two have started a quiet, heated argument over the feathers.

Once again, he's about to go over and ask them if they need assistance, but once again his attention is diverted by a question from the boy who's still talking to him. "How long have you worked here?"

"Oh." Tooru glances around the small, cozy space. He grew up among these shelves, learning the magical properties of mundane things at his father's knee, wide-eyed and eager. He's always felt more at home here than at his actual house. 

He gives his customer service smile to the boy, who looks at him with warm, tawny eyes that leave Tooru wondering if he is not, in fact, part owl. "It's actually my shop. I inherited it from my parents."

The man's eyes widen. Before he can say anything, though, the other two have walked back up to them. "Bokuto-san, I hope you weren't causing a nuisance," the pretty one says, his voice neutral.

"It was no trouble," Tooru answers at the same time Bokuto says, "Aw, Akaashi, I was only talking!"

So. Bokuto and Akaashi, who is apparently part siren. Tooru eyes the other one but doesn't say anything except, "Did you find everything you need?"

Akaashi nods, placing a white feather and a string of unicorn hair on the counter. Tooru raises his eyebrows, biting his tongue so his curiosity stays tamped down. He rings up the two tiny purchases, wincing internally as he says "46,402 yen."

The messy-haired one whistles low. Akaashi rolls his eyes, but he doesn't hesitate as he puts his card in the reader. "It's why we're not getting the caladrius feather."

Tooru's hands slow as he packages the ingredients. He can usually curb his curiosity but... "Are you making a healing draught?"

Akaashi nods. Tooru wants to ask more questions, but he just hands over the package. He glances to Bokuto, and he must still look curious enough because Bokuto says, "Ah, Akaashi's mother has been sick for awhile, but she's getting better. She can talk again. We were trying to do research on what it could be, but the only thing we could really get any information on was hanahaki. That's a nymph disease, right?"

Tooru smiles through gritted teeth. "Yep," he says, trying to keep his voice light. "Throwing up flowers is definitely a nymph specialty."

"Bokuto-san," Akaashi said, his voice terse. Bokuto clamps his mouth shut, his face instantly apologetic.

Tooru's mind goes back to what Bokuto had said before he'd brought up hanahaki. A sick part-siren with a symptom of losing their voice... "Here." Tooru reaches up, plucking a few chamomile flowers and mint sprigs from his hair, enough for three days' worth of tea. He rummages underneath the counter, where he has been storing his excess tea mixes. He tends to grow a lot of chamomile in autumn, which is good for winter business. "This will make three cups. Use the fresh flowers first. Then use this for the rest of the week. Let me know if you need more."

"Do you think I haven't tried chamomile before?" Akaashi asks, his voice still carefully neutral, although Tooru could tell he was insulted by Tooru's simple suggestion.

"Have you tried chamomile and mint from a nymph?" Tooru shoots back. When Akaashi's mouth tightens, he says, "Didn't think so. I'm giving it to you for free anyway, so if it doesn't work you're not out anything, right? With the healing draught and the tea and plenty of rest, it should clear up sooner rather than later."

Akaashi nods, scooping the small pouches up off the counter. Tooru doesn't know Akaashi well, but he can tell that he's been living in worry for awhile now. And he gets it. Tooru has had relatives come down with strange, sometimes undocumented illnesses that linger for months, if not years. He remembers catching something when he was small and missing most of a semester of school because he was so tired he couldn't stay awake for longer than two hours at a time. It all comes with being part-mythical.

"Thank you," Akaashi says before turning. The boy Tooru never got the name of glances at his friend's back, a worried crease between his eyebrows, before following. Bokuto looks from Akaashi to Tooru, then back to Akaashi as he walks out the door.

"Well, see you around," Bokuto finally says, turning his attention back to Tooru. He gives a small wave, still not moving.

"Bye," Tooru says. Bokuto's grin is a little shy, but before Tooru can say or do anything else, Bokuto turns and bounds after his two friends.

The rest of the day is slow, which isn't unusual. The shop usually only makes just enough to break even month to month, but Tooru's family is rich enough to continue funding his 'hobby' as his mother likes to call it. He's sure they only do it because they think he's going to grow out of the shop, like they inevitably did. But when Tooru walks the shelves after he closes up, stocking the few things he needs to stock, rearranging the window display to slowly incorporate autumn products, he doesn't think he will ever leave this place.

The sun is just starting to set when Tooru finally drags himself out of the shop, locking up behind him. Sometimes, he likes to sleep here, but that also makes him feel a little pathetic, as if the only thing he has going for him in life is the fact that he owns a magical shop, which is not true. He's in the prime of his life--he has plenty of things going for him, they're just a little slow coming right now. He shivers as the light breeze dances around him. Soon, he will have to start bringing a jacket for the short walk to his apartment.

He stops by a convenience store to pick up food. He needs to go shopping, should have gone on the weekend, but he'd procrastinated so now here he was. Although, he wasn't sure if he would actually cook for himself if he had the real food in the house anyway.

When Tooru gets home, he puts the teakettle on the stove, then turns the TV to a mindless show he'd started a few nights before. His routine doesn't vary much, but he's okay with that. He likes having his own space, even if it's so small he can't satisfyingly pace in his living area. He sinks further into the couch cushions, the wash of voices lulling him into a doze.

As his eyes close, he thinks of Bokuto, the cheerful, curious person who'd admired Tooru's hair. Tooru could admit Bokuto was attractive, with his big chest and strong arms, his bright, open expression, his wide tawny eyes. He'd talked a lot, but he'd never been a bad conversationalist. In fact, Tooru had been the guarded one the whole time, and Bokuto had never appeared offended by it.

The whistle of the teakettle pulls Tooru out of his thoughts. He groans, rolling off the couch to fix his tea and put together a shoddy dinner. He thinks about calling Makki or Iwa, but they both have school and it's only Tuesday. He shouldn't bother them.

In the end, he falls asleep in front of the TV, startling himself awake around eleven. He drags himself into the bathroom to shower, eyeing the mess of plants in his hair with disdain as he waits for the water to warm. He looks like an overgrown, overrun garden. His scowl deepens as he watches s a freesia blooms in real time in the mirror, right next to his eye. He needs to stop thinking of this man he met for five minutes. There's no way he's going to see him again. Healing draughts are too expensive for college students, no matter how rich they looked. So there was no reason for them to visit his store another time, especially the one who seemed to have no interest in the magical objects in the first place.

Tooru turns away from the mirror. He'll take care of the flowers in his hair tomorrow. At least he hadn't started growing them anywhere else like a lovestruck teenager. That's when he would truly look pathetic.

***

Tooru's week continues as normal. Work, home, sleep, with a few trips to the convenience store in between because he still hasn't bothered with shopping. He sifts through the flowers in his hair, labeling which ones were usable and tossing out the ones that weren't. As much as he grumbles about the chore, it's cathartic in its own way, like getting a manicure or taking a nice bubble bath.

He's almost forgotten about Bokuto, Akaashi, and their still unnamed friend. That is, until Bokuto himself walks into Tooru's shop the next Saturday afternoon. He's in shorts and a tank top that shows off his arms even better than the t-shirt he'd worn the day they met. He waves cheerfully at Tooru, walking up to the counter.

"I was hoping you'd be working today," Bokuto says with a friendly smile. “Oikawa, right? I’m Bokuto Koutarou.”

Tooru doesn’t remember introducing himself the first time they met, but he does have his name tag. He nods, mustering up his customer service smile. "Yep! I’m Oikawa Tooru. And, well, I'm technically the only employee, so I work all days," Tooru says. "Sometimes if I'm sick or if I'm going to be out of town for awhile, I'll see if one of my friends will cover for me but other than that..." Tooru shrugs.

Bokuto's eyes widen. Tooru wonders if he always displays his emotions so openly. "Man, you're dedicated. If you're the only worker then you don't, like, get days off or anything?"

"I usually take Mondays off," Tooru answers, not sure why he's divulging so much to a stranger, especially when he continues with, "and if I don't feel like working, I don't come in. Or I close early. It's not like I have enough business to be hurt by it. The customers who want my goods will come back the next day."

Bokuto smiles. Tooru finds himself captivated by it, admiring the way Bokuto's whole face lights up. "That's awesome! I work part time at a frozen yogurt place next to the gym, but they'd never just up and let employees have the day off. It's a bad business model. That's what Kuroo would say."

Tooru wonders if Kuroo is the mysterious other person who came in with Bokuto and Akaashi but doesn't ask. Instead, he leans against the counter and says, "So, Bokkun, do you have something you're looking for specifically or did you just come to visit me?"

"Oh!" Bokuto's eyes dart over to Tooru's large selection of tea. "I was just wondering if you had something to help with sleep. I don't have insomnia or anything, but sometimes it takes me a long time to get to bed, especially when I play a late game or have a closing shift. I though I'd stop here first and see if you had any suggestions before I turned to the internet."

Tooru hums. He wonders what sport Bokuto plays, if he really has a problem sleeping or if it's just an excuse to show up at Tooru's shop. Not that Tooru much minds. He'd never turn away more business, especially from someone as attractive as Bokuto.

He moves from behind the counter to the shelves of tea packets, eyes scanning through the section labeled 'calm'. Finally, he finds a packet, one of the last of this mixture. He'd have to make some more soon, he thinks as he holds it out to Bokuto, who takes it gingerly.

"Try this one. I used it in high school while I was playing volleyball, and my friends swear by it."

"Lavender Unwind," Bokuto reads before he freezes. "Wait. You play volleyball?"

Bokuto's full attention swings to Tooru. Tooru blinks, thrown by the intensity of Bokuto's gaze, before laughing a fake, pretty laugh. "Yeah. I mean, I used to when I was in school. It's been a long time, but some of my friends still pass a ball around."

"Dude, I play volleyball too!" Bokuto says excitedly. If there were any other customers in the store, Tooru would have shushed him, but there aren't, and there's something endearing to Bokuto's enthusiasm, even if the topic is a little sensitive for Tooru's liking. "I mean, I'm playing in college right now, and I played in high school too. Maybe we can play sometime.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Tooru hedges, trying to keep his smile in place. His friends know that volleyball is a touchy subject and generally avoid it unless Tooru breaches it first, but Bokuto has no way of knowing as much. So Tooru changes the subject before things get too tense. “Anything else you’re looking for?”

“Oh,” Bokuto looks at the tea packet in his hand, then back up at Tooru, giving him a big grin. “Nope, I think this will do! I'll come back and let you know how it's working in a few days."

"You don't have to do that," Tooru says as he guides Bokuto back to the counter, taking the tea packet from him and ringing it up.

Bokuto nods eagerly. "But I want to! Akaashi's mother is starting to get better, so I'm sure your products are top notch, and I want to tell you about how great they are."

Tooru opens his mouth to suggest exchanging phone numbers, then pauses. It may be a little selfish, but he wants Bokuto to come back and visit him, not just send him sporadic messages that will gradually fade away. "Okay," he says finally, "I'll hold you to it."

Bokuto picks up his packet of tea, his smile growing, if that were possible. Tooru finds himself mesmerized by it, almost missing Bokuto's next words. "Wow, that purple flower is so pretty! It wasn't there when I walked in, was it? What is it?"

Tooru reaches up to his scalp, where he'd just felt a new flower grow and unfurl, almost in a time-lapse. That hasn't happened to him in ages, his emotions blooming for the world to see. Instead of looking at it in a mirror, he plucks it right out of his head, wincing as it tugs a little harder than normal. Apparently, it wasn't completely done growing. "Oh. This is a violet."

The first time Tooru had grown a violet, he'd had a crush on a boy in middle school, although he refused to admit it to himself. Iwaizumi had finally sat him down and asked point blank if he was gay, to which Tooru had had a breakdown and Iwaizumi had confessed that he was also into boys, so it felt a little better. He'd only grown a handful of others since then.

Tooru holds it out to Bokuto, who glances at it with creased eyebrows before looking back up at Tooru. "Are you sure?"

Tooru shrugs. "I don't have much use for it." And if Tooru had to guess, he'd say Bokuto was the reason for the flower growing so quickly anyway.

Bokuto doesn't need to be told twice. He scoops it lovingly into his hands, cupping it gently as if it were glass. Tooru had to suppress a shiver as Bokuto's warm skin connected with his for just that brief second. "It's so cool that you can do that. You know, grow plants. Akaashi can hold his breath underwater for, like, ever, and he has the prettiest singing voice, but I think your plants are beautiful. Anyway! I should go! I'll see you again soon!"

Bokuto's cheeks are dusted pink as he waves awkwardly at Tooru, backing out of the store as if he doesn't want to take his eyes off of him. It's been a long time since Tooru has had anyone look at him like he's someone to admire--since he'd dropped out of college his freshman year, he hasn't really made it a point to go out and mingle with people his age he doesn't already know. He likes his looks being appreciated. It helps that Bokuto is exactly the type of man Tooru wants that attention from.

"Stop it," he scolds himself under his breath. He itches at a spot on his shoulder as he studies the window display and wonders how early is too early to completely decorate for the autumn season. He wonders if one day he'll ask Bokuto out on a date. Maybe just to get coffee, nothing too big. Bokuto would probably jump at the chance to go to the gym, or run in the park, and that could be fun...

Two more violets sprout, one out of his hair and another peeking out of his shoulder where he'd been itching his skin just moments before.

He glares at the traitorous thing as it takes over most of his shoulder. "I am not a lovestruck teenager," he tells himself as he itches the rest of the skin away from the plant so he can pluck it out, but his flowers beg to differ.

***

Growing flowers out of his body doesn't hurt, but it sure is a weird feeling, and Tooru hates the way it leaves his skin dry and split for days afterward. He scowls down at his left forearm, where a bouquet of creeping buttercups have just finished spreading like weeds. He's had real buttercups taking over his hair for the past few days, which wasn't very helpful, as most of them were toxic and made his sinuses congested and his skin irritated with a rash. Truthfully, all this flowering wasn't sustainable, but Tooru doesn't know what to do about it other than tell Bokuto to stop interrupting his life, and that's the one thing he knows he doesn't want to do.

Bokuto has come to visit Tooru three more times, staying longer and longer until the day previous he'd been there almost the whole afternoon. Every time, Tooru almost works up the courage to ask Bokuto if they could do something outside of this normal routine, and every time he sprouts a new flower that Bokuto admires instead. 

Tooru doesn't really know what it is about Bokuto that has him turning to face him like a sunflower to the sun. Maybe it's his magnetic personality--upbeat and excitable but in the most genuine way. And it also probably has something to do with the fact that Bokuto loves complimenting Tooru on literally anything--his hair the most, and his flowers second, but also his teas and the new displays he's arranged around the shop, or the way his shirt makes his eyes stand out or how his pants make his legs seem longer than they are. Tooru soaks in the words of affirmation that he doesn't get from Iwa-chan or Makki or Mattsun. 

And, maybe, it could also be the fact that every time Bokuto walks in the shop, it feels like Tooru has known him for years instead of a few weeks. They can talk about everything and nothing for hours without the conversation feeling contrived. The only other person in Tooru's life who can do the same thing is Iwaizumi, and Tooru has had years to perfect that relationship.

It's been almost a month since Bokuto has started visiting Tooru and Tooru's flowers are starting to regulate back to a normal growing cycle, when things take a turn for the worse. 

Tooru had decided, finally, that he was going to ask Bokuto out. At least, out to do something besides sit in his shop. Maybe not out on a _date_ date, but a hangout, as friends. And if something budded from there, well. That would be ideal.

The day started out normally enough. Bokuto had messaged Tooru telling him practice had run late, but he was on his way to grab more tea, if he could stay open a little longer (yes, Tooru caved to giving Bokuto his number on his second visit, and he could safely say he had not been disappointed). Tooru had said of course, and then immediately began looking up places they could go for dinner that were casual, but not too casual, that may or may not be a good place to go on a date. As friends.

When Bokuto comes in, there is a frenetic energy about him that isn't uncommon after a good practice. Tooru had slowly and efficiently started cataloguing all of Bokuto's myriad of excitable expression, as well as his not-so-happy emotions that he tries to cover up but ultimately fails. This is an I've-just-had-a-great-idea energy, which generally meant the idea might be terrible. Tooru braces himself.

"Hey," Bokuto says, breathless, practically slamming his hands down on the counter. His eyes are intense as they stare at Tooru. His hair is drooping. He must not have touched it up after practice, and Tooru can't help but stare at it, wondering what it would look like if he had it completely down. It's the first time he could appreciate Bokuto's obsession with his own hair.

Tooru misses Bokuto's next sentence, he's so entranced with Bokuto's new look. "Uh. Sorry, what was that?"

Bokuto blinks, his excitement slowly replaced by a look of slight concern. "You okay? Your arm looks a little sore. And you've been getting paler over the week."

Tooru glances down at the desert on his forearm again and scowls. "Yeah, I'm fine. I have lotion in the back I'll put on it. Anyway, what did you say?"

The excited look comes back to Bokuto's face. "Oh! I was wondering. Do you make love potions? I mean, I know, like, making someone fall in love with you that doesn't want to is, like, a terrible thing and potions can't do that. I mean a love potion to, like, help someone realize their feelings for someone else that are already there. Is that something you can make?"

Tooru feels his world tilt, just a little, when Bokuto says those words. He grips the counter a little more forcefully than necessary, but his voice is pleasant when he says, "It'll probably take awhile, because I'll have to get some star powder shipped from Kyoto and it has to brew for at least twelve days, but sure, I can make a potion that reveals hidden emotions."

The excitement is back in Bokuto's eyes instantly. "Awesome! And yeah, take your time, I don't need it for awhile. It'll be perfect for Kuroo."

Tooru can't stand looking at Bokuto any longer, so he drops his eyes to the counter. Bokuto talks about Kuroo a lot. Akaashi too, but Kuroo seems to be his go-to for trouble making. He was, indeed, the unnamed third Tooru had seen on the first day they had come into his shop. And he's cute too, in a tall/dark/handsome way. The opposite of Tooru's preppy boy next door look. He had known all this was too good to be true, that Bokuto was probably like this with all of his friends. It happens. But it doesn't make it any easier to stomach.

So Tooru swallows down his invitation to dinner, smiling his biggest, fakest smile, and says the words he knows he shouldn't. "I'll start working on it then! But it's pretty pricy. Not as much as Akaashi's haul, but up there."

Bokuto laughs. "Well, it'll be worth it if it works, right? You're sure you're doing okay? You seem a little down today."

Tooru unconsciously rubs at his chest, where he feels his skin peeling away there too. These _damn_ flowers. "I'm fine! Everything's fine! I'm just a little tired, is all?"

Tooru hadn't meant for it to come out as a question, but Bokuto nods as if in agreement. He reaches out, placing his hand over Tooru's, grasping his fingers around Tooru's wrist gently. "I think you work too hard. Maybe you should take a few days off?"

Tooru stares at where their hands are joined, Bokuto's hand enveloping his wrist. He has the sudden urge to press their fingers together and compare hands. He knows Bokuto's is wider, but he's pretty sure his fingers are longer.

"If I'm not working, what am I doing?" he finally says with a hollow laugh. He makes the mistake of looking up into Bokuto's eyes. They're soft with concern, his face open in a way that makes the hair on Tooru's arms stand on end.

"I think that if you weren't always working, you'd have a much better answer. Anyway, thanks again, alright? I have to go, but I'll see you soon! We still haven't found a time to pass a ball around."

Ah. The last nail in the coffin of Tooru's already spiraling mood. Luckily, Bokuto is already waving, turning his back at the last moment to leave Tooru standing by himself, a riot of calendula and marigold sprouting in his hair. Well. At least he'll have something to help soothe the rash from his buttercups.

***

That night, a weird tingling tightness starts forming insides his chest. He doesn't think anything of it, just throws away the leaf he finds underneath his tongue after an irritating bout of coughing.

***

The changes to Tooru's health are gradual. It starts with a heaviness in his chest that doesn't go away, no matter how many decongestants he takes or how many flowers he tries to pry out of his skin. Everything feels cramped, full, so full he's rarely hungry and, sometimes, he finds it a little hard to catch his breath as if he's trying to breathe with a flower pressed to his nose and mouth.

Then, he's tired. It's a continual, bone-aching sleepiness, as if he's supposed to be dormant but is fighting the urge. His world is becoming a dreamy haze, and he's never been more grateful for the slow foot traffic into his shop than he is now.

On top of it all, he's started having lingering cough attacks that don't seem to do anything other than irritate the tightness in his chest. Every once in awhile he'll choke up a petal or a leaf, and instead of pursuing the implications of what that could mean, he throws the evidence of his illness away, putting on a brave face for Bokuto, who still comes to visit him.

There are two good things that come out of this change. The first is that his flowers, for the most part, seem to have stopped overgrowing. Instead, they're mostly confined to his head and the occasional blossom on his wrist or in his palm, and if they grow a little (a lot) faster than normal, it's whatever. The not-so-great thing is that they're flowers he's never really grown before, and each and every one solidify the fact that he is, indeed, falling hopelessly in love with Bokuto while Bokuto is making a love potion for someone else.

The second good thing is Bokuto himself. He hangs around way more often, sometimes bringing Akaashi around, but most of the time by himself. Tooru has moved a stool from the backroom to the counter just for Bokuto's visits. He still buys teas from Tooru, but most of their time is spent in each other's company, Bokuto asking him questions about his shop, or his processes when making things or stocking up and Tooru answering as best he can while still trying to keep up his facade of normalcy. It's hard for Tooru to remember a time before Bokuto and his excitable personality, and that's perfectly fine with him.

They're about two months into their friendship when Bokuto asks, on a Tuesday night, "Hey. Think we can get something to eat after this?"

Tooru almost drops the vial he's preparing to put on display. He glances up at Bokuto who is staring at him with those unnerving tawny eyes. Bokuto has no problem looking at Tooru, does it most of the time they're together. Tooru admires his bluntness; sometimes, he finds himself preening under Bokuto's gaze. If Tooru weren't prepping a potion to reveal hidden emotions for Bokuto to give to someone else, he would stake his life on the fact that Bokuto is interested in him. But Tooru had just put a batch of love potion out on the window sill to sit in the waxing moonlight for two weeks, so this must just be Bokuto's way of being friendly.

"Tooru?"

Tooru blinks, focusing back on Bokuto. "What?" He quickly remembers what Bokuto had just asked him so, with a blush, he says, "Oh. Yeah. We can go eat if you want."

Bokuto nods, his face lighting up. "Awesome! There's this new barbecue place that I wanted to try, if you're okay with that?"

"Oh," Tooru says, "that's right next to my apartment. I've been meaning to go, but..."

He shrugs, placing the newly made perfume in one of the basket that sits on the counter. They're filled with various knickknacks, things that might catch his customers' eyes on the way out. He's had the most success with lip balms and good luck charms, so he thought maybe some sort of small scents that give extra confidence or luck while wearing them might sell as well.

"We'll go!" Bokuto says, jumping up. "You're about ready to close up, yeah? What can I do to help?"

Bokuto has been doing this more and more often, trying to take work off of Tooru's hands. He'd never admit it, but Tooru has been grateful for it as his health continues to decline. "Why don't you sweep while I lock up?"

Bokuto nods, already making a beeline toward the corner where Tooru keeps his cleaning supplies. He also grabs the glass cleaner and sets it on the counter for Tooru before starting his task. Tooru smiles to himself, suppressing a cough.

It doesn't take nearly as long as usual to close the store with Bokuto and all his excess energy helping. Tooru's heart is beating a little faster than normal as they meander down the street toward the restaurant, which makes him feel more lightheaded than usual. They get in right away, as they're just early enough to beat the dinner rush. Tooru sits across from Bokuto, who rests his arms on the table, making himself comfortable, which makes Tooru relax ever so slightly. He doesn't know why he thought this experience would shatter whatever peace they've found together., but he's glad to see it's doing just the opposite.

They've just placed their order when Tooru starts coughing. He starts to excuse himself, but before he can get out of their booth, the hacking takes over his body. He covers his mouth as best he can, trying to stifle the tickling in his throat that is growing worse as he tries to suppress the cough. Finally, he feels something rise in his throat, which he quickly palms, stuffing into his jacket pocket, covering it with another few coughs. When he's done, his cheeks are red from the exertion of coughing and his utter embarrassment at making a scene in a restaurant. His eyes are watering and his throat aches, but the tightness in his chest has eased, just a little.

"Sorry," Tooru says, clearing his throat, hand groping for his drink. Bokuto is half risen out of his seat, frozen in indecision, but as soon as he sees what Tooru is going for, he pushes the glass toward his grasping fingers. Tooru takes it gratefully, gulping the water to ease his scraped throat. He wonders what's in his pocket, but there's no way he's about to look in front of Bokuto.

"You're getting worse," Bokuto finally breaks the silence, his voice soft and hesitant.

Tooru shrugs, forcing a smile and a lie. "It's probably just a cold. I'll get over it!"

In fact, Tooru has a sneaking suspicion that this illness is much worse than he wants to admit to himself, but he can't let Bokuto know. He can't let _anyone_ know.

Before Bokuto can say anything, the waiter appears with their food. Tooru chirps a thank you, then digs in, refusing to look at Bokuto. Bokuto takes the cue and eats quietly.

When they're finished, Tooru is tired. Bokuto must sense it, because he says, "Can I walk you home?"

Tooru nods. Bokuto insists on paying for the meal, which Tooru allows, mostly because he wants to pretend this is a date and not just Bokuto feeling sorry for him being overworked and now sick on top of it. 

Tooru wasn't lying when he said he lived right next to the restaurant. They reach his apartment in five minutes. Bokuto studies the door intently, as if he can see inside if he stares hard enough. Tooru quirks his lips. "Do you want to come in and get a drink or something? I have coffee. Or tea. And cake."

"Cake!" Bokuto says in excitement. Tooru laughs softly and opens the door, ushering Bokuto in. Bokuto needs no other invitation. 

Thankfully, Tooru is already a relatively tidy person, so the apartment is presentable. As Tooru had expected, Bokuto is not shy as he looks around Tooru's living space. "Tea or coffee?" Tooru asks.

"Coffee," Bokuto answers, his voice muffled as he glances into Tooru's room. He ambles back over to where Tooru is standing next to the stove. "I have a paper that I need to get done tonight."

"I think your trouble sleeping has more to do with your procrastination than anything else," Tooru says teasingly as he starts the coffee maker.

"Akaashi says that all the time!" Bokuto says as he leans against the counter next to Tooru. "I do my best work running up against a deadline."

"Mmhmm," Tooru says, trying to control the smile threatening to spill across his face.

"It's true!" Bokuto insists, putting his face next to Tooru's, as if being closer will help convince him.

The closeness makes Tooru's breath catch in his throat. He blinks a few times, trying to clear the random thought that he could just...reach out and touch Bokutos' cheek, he's that close. Or press his lips to the corner of Bokuto's mouth to see if he tastes anything like Tooru has imagined.

Bokuto seems to have realized how close they are too, if the way his expression has sharpened is any indication. His eyes roam Tooru's face before landing on his hair, like they always seem to.

"You can touch it," Tooru says, his voice lower and quieter than he'd anticipated. Bokuto's eyes land on his, guilt evident in his gaze. Tooru smiles. "My hair. You can touch it. I know you've been wanting to ever since you saw me."

His comment makes Bokuto blush. Tooru presses his hand to his mouth to suppress a giggle at such an endearing look on his face. "I mean, I shouldn't. It's rude, and Akaashi made me swear I wouldn't or he wouldn't help me with my English..."

Tooru laughs again, louder. "Well, I'll thank Akaashi later for keeping you in line but, really, it's fine. Go ahead. I want you to."

The worst part is, Tooru isn't even lying. He _does_ want to feel Bokuto's hands in his hair. Nymphs are more physical than full humans by nature, and Tooru had always grown up with his mother and father ruffling his hair, or touching his arm or the back of his neck when talking to him. Even Iwaizumi sometimes cuddles with him, although it's really only if Tooru is having a bad day. Makki tends to braid his hair when they're sitting around doing nothing.

He should probably reach out to them.

Before he can feel guilty for his radio silence, Tooru is pulled back to the present moment as Bokuto hesitantly reaches out, threads his fingers through the hair by Tooru's left eye, close to where the violet Tooru had given Bokuto had grown. Tooru butts his head into Bokuto's hand when he hesitates. Bokuto doesn't need any more encouragement. Tooru smiles as Bokuto's face transforms from hesitant to awestruck. His fingers dance around the plants in Tooru's hair, untangling the inevitable end-of-day knots. "Wow, there's even, like, wheat."

"Because it's harvest season," Tooru murmurs, his eyes slipping half closed. "There's never enough to do anything with it, but it's pretty. Sometimes I decorate with it. Mmm."

Bokuto chuckles softly. Tooru feels his breath on his cheek. He's leaned closer to Tooru, so close Tooru could turn and their lips would meet. It would be so easy...

"I still think it's beautiful," Bokuto finally says, his hands withdrawing. "And it smells really good." Tooru opens his eyes, not sure when he'd closed them completely.

"Thanks," Tooru says awkwardly, feeling his cheeks turn a dark red. He whirls around to the coffee maker, busying himself with it. He senses Bokuto retreating to the tiny table in the corner, and his shoulders ease down as he finishes the coffee and cuts two slices of cake, offering the bigger one to Bokuto, who devours it in four bites.

"Well," Bokuto says when there's no reason for him to linger any longer. Tooru contemplates asking him to watch something, but Bokuto had mentioned that he has a paper due and Tooru is not about to be the one who makes his grades suffer. "See you soon?"

"Yeah," Tooru says, standing up to see Bokuto out. Bokuto hesitates in the doorway for a moment, then, without warning, envelopes Tooru in a hug. Tooru is stunned for a few seconds, then gets a hold of himself and reciprocates before Bokuto decides he'd made a mistake.

When they break away, Bokuto looks a little chagrined, but he waves happily as he turns and walks down the street. Tooru closes the door quietly, leaning his back against it. He takes a few deep breaths before reaching into his jacket pocket.

There is a pile of wrinkled, torn pink petals in his palm. He presses his lips together as he stares at the mess of what looks to be half of a camellia.

"No," he whispers to himself. "I dropped it in my pocket and forgot about it. Yeah. I didn't cough this up."

As if in rebellion, his throat tightens. He coughs, but this time, nothing comes up. He makes sure to throw the petals away, then puts the jacket in the wash immediately. He's not that sick. It's just a cold, like he told Bokuto. Everything is fine.

***

Everything is not fine. In fact, everything seems to be getting worse very quickly. Tooru can no longer deny that he's coughing up...plants. Things that definitely shouldn't be growing inside of him. Two days after his pseudo-date with Bokuto, he throws up a whole flower, stem, leaves and all. He stares at it for two minutes, wanting to scream and tear it to shreds. It's the first time he's thought about reaching out to his mother willingly in two years.

Before he can actually follow through with his thought, the door opens. Tooru scrambles to his feet, dropping the flower onto the counter and brushing off his clothes. "Hi, welcome in! Oh."

Matsukawa gives a small grin as he saunters over to the counter. "Long time, no see. You've been more reclusive than usual, so I thought I'd drop in and check up on you."

Tooru wrinkles his nose. "Well, as you can see, I'm fine."

"Hmm, fine seems to be reaching," he says, eyeing Tooru. "Have you even slept at all this month?"

"Yes!" Tooru snaps. "I just have a cold, is all. And I have this damn flower irritating my arm that won't blossom."

"Okay, don't bite my head off," Matsukawa says, holding up his hands in surrender. He sits on Bokuto's usual stool, peering at Tooru's proffered arm. "Oh, ouch. How long has that been there?"

"Since yesterday," Tooru says miserably, prodding at the sensitive spot on his forearm, the same place those buttercups had formed. He hopes they're not more weeds. If he's going to grow things out of his body, they might as well be useful, right?

Matsukawa hums. "You're sure it's just a cold?"

"I'll be better soon," Tooru dodges the question. He drops his arm, mustering up a smile that Matsukawa just raises his eyebrows at. "Did you want anything, or did you just come to be annoying?"

"Well, I was going to see if you wanted to go out with us tonight, but Iwaizumi would kill me if he found out you were sick and I let you go to a bar. You look like you're about to fall asleep on your feet."

"Yeah, I probably shouldn't," Tooru says with a sigh. "Go have fun. I'll join you next time."

Matsukawa nods as he stands up. He opens his mouth to say something else, but before he can speak the door chimes again.

"Welcome in...Oh. Hi Bokuto."

"Hey! Sorry, practice ran late but I wanted to stop by and say hi." Bokuto strides up to the counter, grinning broadly.

Matsukawa raises his eyebrows at Tooru. Tooru stares at Matsukawa, willing him to leave it alone. Instead, Matsukawa turns to Bokuto, an easy smile slipping onto his face. "Bokuto? I'm Matsukawa, Oikawa's friend."

"Nice to meet you! This shop is so cool! Oikawa definitely puts a lot of love in this place, doesn't he?"

Matsukawa glances over at Tooru, a smirk dancing on his lips. Tooru feels the tips of his ears turning red. "Oh, yeah. He's such a loving and caring person, isn't he? Are you a customer or a more-than-customer?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but I'm making him a long-brewing potion. Anyway, weren't you about to leave?" Tooru asks in an aggressively cheerful voice. "Wouldn't want you to be late to your thing, right?"

"Oh yeah. My _thing_." Tooru glares at the way Matsukawa enunciates the word, slow and dramatic. "See you." With that, Matsukawa disappears out the door. Tooru releases the breath he had been holding ever since Bokuto walked in. It's not that he doesn't want Bokuto to meet his friends. It's just a little...complicated at the moment. He'd rather work everything out before getting teased mercilessly in front of his crush.

"I was thinking," Bokuto says, leaning up against the counter, "we could get lunch tomorrow, since you're off. Maybe have a picnic or something. I'll take care of all the details and I'll pick you up."

Bokuto looks so hopeful, Tooru can't turn him down. "That sounds nice."

Bokuto lingers as Tooru closes up shop, then walks with him home. "Wanna come in?" Tooru asks.

Bokuto bites his lip, eyes lingering on the door. Tooru laughs softly. "C'mon."

"Akaashi told me not to be overbearing," Bokuto says apologetically, but he follows Tooru into his apartment.

Tooru rolls his eyes. If Bokuto hadn't said that he was making this love potion for Kuroo, he'd think he were making it for Akaashi. "Well, it's a little late for that, isn't it? I would have told you a long time ago if I didn't want you around so just accept my hospitality and come in."

Bokuto grins.

They order takeout for dinner and put on a superhero movie that Tooru hasn't seen before at Bokuto's insistence. It holds his interest long enough to finish dinner and curl up next to Bokuto. About halfway through the movie, Bokuto's hand finds its way into Tooru's hair, and Tooru basks in the feeling of his fingers massaging his scalp, carding through his flowers.

Tooru closes his eyes, allows himself to imagine that this is what it would be like if they were dating, except then he could lean up and kiss Bokuto whenever he wanted. He also probably wouldn't be this sick.

The loud credit score jolts him awake. He blinks, glances around, trying to figure out where he is. He looks up to see Bokuto looking down at him with a soft, open expression of wonder. "What?" Tooru asks, his voice rusty from sleep.

Bokuto shrugs, jostling Tooru, who is still mostly leaning against him. He sits up, wincing as he twists his neck to the side to loosen his muscles. "You look different when you sleep, is all. Less intense. Not that your intensity is a bad thing! It's just nice to see you relaxed, for once. Anyway, it's almost the full moon, isn't it?"

All of the contentment that Tooru had been basking in disappears. "Oh. Yeah. It'll take me a few days to mix the rest of the potion together, but after that it'll be done and you can...you can give it to Kuroo."

"Yeah," Bokuto says, averting his eyes from Tooru's. Tooru swallows down the lump in his throat threatening to escape. He isn't sure if it's just disappointment or an actual flower. Right then, it could be both. "Anyway! Tomorrow! I'll be here around eleven thirty."

"Okay," Tooru says, his voice small. Bokuto gives him an uncertain smile as he stands. Tooru guides him to the door. "Thanks for..." Tooru doesn't know what he's thanking him for so he just ends with, "Thanks."

"Oh, it's not a problem. I like spending time with you!" Bokuto hesitates for a second. Tooru could swear his eyes dip to Tooru's lips for just a second before he grasps him in a bear hug instead.

A swell of anger washes over Tooru as he closes the door behind Bokuto. How can someone be so nice and appear so _interested_ when he's clearly trying to woo someone else? It's not fair.

Tooru knows he should confront Bokuto about it, tell him about how these emotions are literally killing him. He'll do it the next day, after their picnic, which, now that he thinks about it, sounds suspiciously like a date.

***

When Tooru wakes up, he feels like he has been hit by a truck. It takes more willpower than it should to sit up in bed, and when he stands up the room spins sickeningly. He takes a few deep breaths, but all that does is bother whatever is growing inside of him.

There's no way around this anymore. Tooru has hanahaki.

He presses the bottoms of his hands into his eyes as he feels tears start to form. No. He isn't going to cry about a situation he's put himself in.

After a few minutes he tries standing again. The world still spins, but this time he is prepared for it, and after a few seconds, he's steady enough to drag himself into the bathroom as his throat spasms, trying to expunge his newest growth. He isn't surprised when he looks in the mirror and sees that his hair is a riot of new colors and wilted, unattended plants that have spoiled overnight. He bends over the sink, coughing up a veritable bouquet of scabiosa. It makes him feel physically better, if more exhausted, but looking at his unfortunate love, right there in the sink, does nothing to help his emotional state.

Instead of throwing them out, he leaves them there to clean up that afternoon, when he's feeling a little stronger.

It must have taken him longer than he thought to get his bearings, because he hears his doorbell ring as he just about to turn on the shower. Frowning, he checks his phone, to see that it is, indeed, eleven thirty. He sighs. He's going to have to tell Bokuto he's not up for going today, which makes everything worse.

He doesn't even have to talk when he opens the door. "Hey," Bokuto says, his voice soft. He shuts the door softly behind him, then gently guides Tooru back to the living room. Tooru finds himself falling into Bokuto's arms. He shouldn't do this, but he'd just thrown up flowers on Bokuto's behalf, so he figures the least he could do for himself is get comfort from him.

Tooru closes his eyes when he feels Bokuto's hands in his hair just moments later. "I think we'll cancel our picnic. You don't look so good," he says. Tooru thinks it's the first time he's heard Bokuto's voice so serious. He winces when Bokuto reaches out, traces the sensitive vine growing on his arm that has finally started peeking out of his skin.

"I'm sick," Tooru says, shifting away from Bokuto. Bokuto's eyes are still serious, wide and earnest and caring. Tooru looks away. "It's fine. I should get better in a few weeks."

He would, if this were a normal illness. But instead, he has flowers blooming _inside_ of him, which isn't normal and will kill him if he doesn't sort it out soon. He should tell Bokuto. He needs to tell Bokuto.

Bokuto's hands are still running through his hair, deftly untangling the wilted mess of flowers, herbs, and brown curls. "You can pick out the ripe ones, and the bad ones," Tooru says, too tired to consider what he had just asked, that it's the complete opposite of what he was going to do. He feels Bokuto's hands retract for just a few seconds before they come back, firmer but still gentle as he runs his fingers by the roots of Tooru's hair.

"You're sure?" Bokuto asks, his voice soft. Tooru nods without hesitation. It's only been a few days since Bokuto has even started touching him this intimately. He shouldn't allow this to continue, for his sake and for Bokuto's, but he's never had much self control with things that he wants, especially when they are three feet in front of him and appear so attainable.

"It's not hard. They'll be the easiest to pull out; like this, see?" Tooru reaches up to where he knows there is rosemary ready. He plucks it, holding it out to show Bokuto. Bokuto's fingers trace the small plant in awe. Tooru shivers at the light touch against his palm. He sets it aside to treat and store later.

"Okay," Bokuto says, his face set in a cute, determined expression. Tooru smiles, then leans his forehead down on Bokuto's shoulder and closes his eyes. He feels a lump in his throat and begs the flowers to stay down until Bokuto finishes.

It is a very strange feeling, having someone else groom him like this, as if Bokuto is washing his hair. He doesn't dislike it, however; quite the opposite, in fact. Bokuto's hands carding through his hair, skating around newer sprouts, ridding Tooru of plants that have started dying, feel soothing in a way nothing has lately. He feels himself lulled into a sleepy haze by the motions of Bokuto's plucking and carding.

"There," Bokuto whispers. Tooru's eyes flutter open and his head feels heavy with sleep as he pulls it up. Bokuto's smile is small, and Tooru has to force himself not to blush as his large hand comes up to tuck a strand of loose hair behind Tooru's ear. Tooru clears his throat, and Bokuto's hand retracts immediately. He sees a small, neat line of plants next to Bokuto's leg. He gathers up the unusable plants first, placing them in a pile to use for either compost or the trash, then does a preliminary sort of the rest of the flowers and herbs. Bokuto watches, rapt.

"You should take better care of yourself," Bokuto finally says, once Tooru has finished sorting. He's too tired to go get bags to put these plants in. In fact, he wants to curl up into Bokuto's side and fall asleep to his rhythmic breathing and steady heartbeat.

Tooru pouts. "I can take care of myself just fine! It's the sickness. It makes things grow out of control. I can't keep up sometimes." He doesn't say anything about the fact that his emotions have something to do with the way his plants have started growing wild.

"It's because you try to do too much," Bokuto says. Tooru feels a twinge of irritation, because Bokuto is right and that's obnoxious. Before he can retort, Bokuto grins. "I'll help you! I can look for different cures you can try; Akaashi and I got really good at researching that sort of stuff. And I can help more around the shop, if you want. At least greet and talk to customers while you sort out what they need."

"I can't pay you..." Tooru protests, but Bokuto waves it away.

"You don't need to! I want to do this for you." Tooru is captured in his warm, golden eyes and finds himself nodding. Bokuto nods back, a smile now taking up most of his face. "I'm putting you on bedrest until Tuesday, and I'll meet you at the shop, okay? Text me if you need anything! I'll bring you dinner! And I'll leave the picnic for you, if you want."

Bokuto jumps to his feet, then offers his hand for Tooru to take. Tooru shivers as he puts his hand in Bokuto's warm, large one. The lump in his throat grows larger. He suppresses a cough. _Five more minutes, five more minutes,_ he pleads with himself.

Bokuto all but drags him to his bed, where he tucks Tooru in. Tooru turns onto his side, pulling the covers up to his eyes and watching as Bokuto sets a glass of water on the bedside. After Bokuto has done everything he can think of to make Tooru comfortable, he presses his hand to Tooru's cheek. "Dinner," Bokuto says, like a promise. Tooru nods, closing his eyes. He feels Bokuto's thumb caress his cheekbone before retreating. He doesn't open his eyes as he hears his door shut softly, then the heavier thump of the outside door.

He waits five more minutes to make sure Bokuto's gone before sitting up, coughing violently until a small Agapanthus lays in his hands, much smaller and more unassuming than the haul he'd thrown up that morning. He is now holding all of his worst fears in his palms.

"Shit," Tooru whispers, crushing the flower in his fingers. He lies back down, closes his eyes, and drifts off to sleep to wait for Bokuto to arrive with food.

***

Tooru knows of two in real life people who have had some form of hanahaki. The first is a distant relation who now lives somewhere in Italy, who had started sharing all sorts of resources on social media about nymph disease awareness immediately after being cured. Apparently, there are a few nymph diseases that have the symptom of throwing up flowers, but usually, if you're throwing up flowers, that means there isn't a cure. Hankahaki is by far the most popular, and the most treatable. It occurs because the person is trying to hide their love, and flowers begin to grow inside the body instead of outside. So, the logical choice would be for Tooru to tell Bokuto how he feels, make the flowers bloom on the _outside_ instead of inside of him.

The downside to hanahaki is that once contracted, it's hard to get rid of, especially if the love isn't requited. Once flowers have started taking root inside of a nymph, the harder it is to uproot them, especially if dark, hidden feelings are constantly fed to them.

Tooru throws his phone across the bed when he reads that, wincing when it thumps onto the floor and skitters across the hardwood. He hopes it isn't broken; he doesn't have enough money to get a new one. Tooru has always been a dramatic creature--it's not like that's changing anytime soon. He had gotten mocked by some of the meaner kids in school about flowers growing on his wrist or neck because of his excitement, or sadness, or happiness. Puberty had been hell as well, trying to figure himself out and how to navigate his attractions to other people on top of it. It feels like he's only just gotten himself under control and now, suddenly, this.

He guesses he should have seen it coming. Of all the half-nymphs to get hanahanki, he's the ideal candidate.

He hears his phone vibrate against the floor. He sighs in relief, but doesn't get up to see who it is. Bokuto told him to stay in bed, after all. But even with his phone across the room, he can't help thinking about hanahaki and what it means for him.

Because the second person Tooru knows who has contracted hanahaki is his mother.

He doesn't know a lot about the situation around it, but he knows it was a mild case, even though she likes to embellish the story. It's how she met Tooru's father. "Love at first sight," she always says with a dreamy look in her eye. "Ran into him on the train, didn't even get his name. Three days later my chest felt like someone had stuffed it with cotton, only to find out that it was honeysuckle! The next time I saw him on campus, I told him we were going to date, and he said yes, and that was the end of that. Good riddance, too; do you know how hard it is to breathe with flowers growing in your chest?"

 _Yes,_ Tooru wants to tell his mother, _I now know exactly how hard that is._

Tooru hasn't talked to his parents for weeks now. He knows he should. Every weekend, the thought pops into his head, and every weekend he tucks the thought away with his phone and forgets about it. A telephone works both ways. They could call too. That's what he tells himself to assuage his guilt.

His phone vibrates again. He sighs, closes his eyes for a few minutes, then rolls himself over to the edge of the bed, scrabbling for his phone with his hand in the now-darkened room. He'd slept for a lot longer than he thought. He wonders if Bokuto had come with food. He hopes he hadn't missed him.

Tooru is surprised to see that it's Iwaizumi trying to get a hold of him. Two calls and a text. The text simply reads _Pick up your phone, dumbass, I know you aren't busy._ Tooru sticks his tongue out at the phone before hitting on one of Iwaizumi's missed calls, closing his eyes as he listens to the ring.

"Hey," Iwaizumi answers mildly, as if he hadn't been trying to get a hold of Tooru just moments before.

"What did you want to tell me that's oh so important?" Tooru asks, leaning back against his pillows. 

"Wow, I don't even get a hello? Your manners have certainly gone south since you've become a recluse."

"I am not a recluse!" Tooru protests, snuggling back up into his bed, facing the door. His stomach tightens, a precursor to a growl. "Just because I'm busier than you and can't spend time with you like you want me to doesn't mean I'm a recluse."

"I still think I see you too much," Iwaizumi cuts Tooru off, a grin in his voice. Tooru wrinkles his nose. "Anyway, Mattsun told me you weren't feeling the best. Just wanted to check in and see how things were going."

Tooru creases his eyebrows. "Well, I've been better, but everything is fine, all things considered. I have a friend bringing me dinner and helping in the shop."

He hears rustling on Iwaizumi's end. "A friend that isn't me or Mattsun or Makki?"

"Yes," Tooru says, his voice a little defensive. "I have more friends than you three, you know."

The silence on the other end of the line speaks volumes. Tooru swallows, grips his phone tightly, waiting for Iwaizumi's painful joke to just get over and done with.

"That's good," Iwaizumi finally says, no hint of teasing in his voice. And then, "Is it the boyfriend Mattsun told me about yesterday?"

Tooru gasps. "I don't have a boyfriend! He's just a friend who comes to visit every once in awhile, unlike _some_ of my friends. Besides, he's making a love potion for someone else, so it's whatever."

More silence. Tooru doesn't even try to fill it, just waits for Iwaizumi to say something. "Well, I'll come over tomorrow when I'm done with work, bring you some food since I'm pretty sure you haven't gone shopping in awhile."

"Hey!" Tooru protests, but Iwaizumi isn't wrong. "If you're just going to be mean, don't bother showing up."

"Fine," Iwaizumi says. "See you tomorrow."

Tooru rolls his eyes but he's smiling when he hangs up. His phone flashes just a few minutes after, a message from Bokuto telling him he's on his way back with soup and a few movies if he's up for watching something. He definitely is, especially if it means spending more time with Bokuto, even though he knows that is counterproductive to his whole situation.

If he doesn't have long to live, he thinks he deserves a nice weekend with the object of his affection doting on him.

***

The next week plods along. Tooru goes through bursts of erratic blooming, followed by days of seemingly normal health before spitting up bigger and more complete flowers than before, which he successfully hides from Bokuto.

Bokuto is, as promised, a huge help. He comes to the shop every day, sometimes for hours, other times after his practices to drop off meals or other things he wants Tooru to try to see if it makes him feel better. Bokuto wasn't lying when he said he was determined to find some sort of cure of Tooru's 'mysterious' disease. 

Most of the things Bokuto has Tooru try are remedies he has used for years--teas and potions he can make in his sleep, that his mother made sure to leave recipes for when they moved to Sapporo. He indulges Bokuto, which does help with some of his lethargy and balances his plant growth a little better; however, it doesn't stop his inevitable decline in health. Tooru doesn't notice right away, but they've all but stopped talking of the love potion they're brewing for Bokuto to give to Kuroo. The thought sends mixed feelings through Tooru, so he decides not to think of it until he has to brew the potion, which is actually the next day.

"You're so lethargic," Bokuto says worriedly to Tooru after a particularly bad purging of some hydrangea that had percolated in his chest overnight, followed by a painfully slow growth of aloe wrapped around his wrist like a chain.

Tooru shrugs, wincing as the aloe finally stops, the tiny thorns biting into the soft flesh on the inside of his arm. "It comes and goes," he says, teeth gritted against the words. "I'm not really any worse than before."

Which they both know is a lie, but Bokuto doesn't call him out on it. Instead, he takes Tooru's hand. "Is this done?" he asks softly. Tooru nods. Bokuto carefully unwinds the aloe leaves from Tooru's sensitive skin. Tooru likes that Bokuto is so gentle with the plant, even though it had caused Tooru some pain. It wasn't the plant's fault that's how it's made.

With that task complete, Bokuto reaches across the desk, plucking a few tissues out of the cute holder they sit in, and wipes some drops of blood off of Tooru's wrist where the teeth had been particularly sharp. "That purple flower in your hair is really pretty. I didn't notice it yesterday."

Tooru smiles, reaching up to pluck it out of his hair. It's a purple pansy, and there was no better person to give the flower to than the one who has consumed Tooru's thoughts so much. He pulls Bokuto's head down, slipping the flower behind his ear. "There," Tooru says. "Now you look like me."

"Nah, I'll never be as pretty as you," Bokuto says with a grin. Tooru bites his lip to stop his smile from curling onto his face. Bokuto has never been shy with his compliments, just as he isn't shy with every other aspect of his life, but Tooru thinks that there's something different in the way Bokuto compliments him. Maybe he's just delusional, trying to see something that isn't ever going to be there, especially with Bokuto making Kuroo a love potion, but it's nice to daydream. It's kind of all he has left at this point.

"It's the full moon tonight," Bokuto says after a few seconds, as if Tooru needs a reminder. "I found this thing I wanted to try, if you're up for a little drive."

"Sure, why not?" Tooru says. Bokuto grins.

"Awesome! I'll come pick you up after dinner, okay? I gotta go get ready." Tooru watches him leave, the flower still tucked behind his ear. 

***

The sun has just set when Bokuto picks Tooru up. The flower Tooru gave Bokuto has moved from his hair to the dashboard, which Tooru finds strangely touching. Bokuto hadn't told Tooru anything about what they were doing, so when Tooru glances into the backseat to see a bundle of clothes, towels, and a cooler, he raises his eyebrows at Bokuto.

"It'll be fine, don't worry!" Bokuto says cheerfully. "But the drive is about an hour, if that's alright?"

"I told you it was this afternoon," Tooru says, snagging Bokuto's phone. "I call the music!"

The drive isn't bad. The two of them fall into easy conversation. Tooru is surprised when Bokuto pulls off of the main road, which had narrowed considerably, onto a dirt path. "Is this the part where you murder me?" Tooru asks.

"No, of course not!" Bokuto says as he stops the car. He digs out a flashlight, but it's not necessary. The moon is heavy and bright in the sky, lighting the clearing that Bokuto had stopped next to. Further away, water glints in the moonlight. Tooru could hear the soft echo of a small waterfall.

"Don't tell me," Tooru says. Bokuto doesn't, just grins as he opens the door. Reluctantly, Tooru follows him out. The scenery is beautiful, Tooru will admit that. The grass underneath their feet is lush and green, the leaves on the trees around them the orange and yellow of autumn. Ahead of them is a spring, not very deep and about the size of a swimming pool. A waterfall empties into it on the far side. Tooru almost wishes he could see this place in the daylight. 

"So, I heard about this from an old lady that used to give my father some good luck charms," Bokuto starts, guiding Tooru to the edge of the little spring. He has to raise his voice slightly to be heard over the waterfall."

"Whatever this is, it isn't going to work," Tooru says dubiously, staring at the white foam where the waterfall meets the river. "I'm going to freeze to death!"

"No you won't," Bokuto says earnestly. "People do it all the time! Apparently, this spring is unnaturally warm. It has healing properties, and if you stand under the waterfall in the light of the full moon, it's supposed to cure any illness."

Bokuto has a point about the healing properties of the spring--Tooru had heard about it since he was little, even had some of the water he sells at the shop, although if it cured every illness there would be a line halfway down the mountain of people trying to get their miracle cure. But still. Tooru isn't really in the mood to wade into the water to stand under a waterfall that can't take his feelings away. He maybe just wants to curl up into a ball like a kitten and sleep for seven years. "Bokkun, I don't think this is a good idea..."

Bokuto's hopeful expression falls. He breaks his gaze away from Tooru, scuffing his foot on the dirt path they're standing on. "Yeah, I guess you're right. I don't want you to get more sick. Sorry," Bokuto murmurs, his voice sounding like Tooru had just broken his heart. Tooru hates it. So, instead of waiting for Bokuto to make some sort of self-deprecating comment, he takes a deep breath, then pulls his shirt over his head. He shivers when the wind hits his bare skin, then tries to still his shaking when Bokuto looks over at him, eyes catching on his collarbones, then traveling down, to his chest, then his stomach, then the dip of his hips...

Tooru clears his throat. Bokuto's eyes jump back to his face, a guilty look plain in his eyes. Bokuto's not subtle about anything, even checking Tooru out. Tooru smirks and sheds his joggers as well so he's left in just his underwear. "If I catch a cold on top of this overgrowth, I expect you to dote on me."

Bokuto's head nods as vigorously as a bobblehead doll's. Tooru presses his lips together to stifle his laugh. He turns to the spring, holds his breath, and nudges the water with his foot.

"It's warm," he says, surprised. It's actually a strange feeling--as if he's stepped into nothing. He takes a few more steps into the strange water--the only way he knows he's in water in the first place is when the water recedes and his wet skin puckers under the wind.

He turns back to Bokuto, motioning with his head. "C'mon! It feels good! Maybe it'll help you sleep!"

Without waiting to see if Bokuto accepts his invitation, Tooru falls backward, twisting and swimming toward the waterfall. It's the cleanest water Tooru has swum in.

He breaks the surface with a gasp, fumbling to catch his footing. Behind him, he hears the unmistakable sound of someone else swimming. He turns just in time to see Bokuto raise up to tackle him. A laugh breaks through his lips before it's swept away by the water and Bokuto's strong arms.

"You already look better," Bokuto whispers when they surface. Tooru is still wrapped in Bokuto's arms. He tilts his chin up to get a better look at the way the moon reflects in Bokuto's pretty, tawny eyes. His hair is down, now that it's wet, plastered to his face in strange patterns that Tooru is sure is mirrored in his own hair. Water runs in rivulets down his nose, the sculpted hollows of his cheekbones, along his strong, corded neck. 

Tooru swallows, opens his mouth, then closes it again without telling Bokuto any of his thoughts. "I feel better," he murmurs back. He's surprised to realize he's not lying--it's the first time in weeks that he doesn't feel that strange pressure in his chest of unwanted growing things, the first time he feels an ounce of energy instead of weariness.

Bokuto's fingers play at the space where Tooru's hair meets his neck. Tooru shivers. He watches Bokuto's eyes drop to his lips before he catches himself. They are so close to each other with so little between them...

Bokuto drops his hold, takes a lumbering step back. "You should go over there, under the waterfall. So we can make sure you get exactly what you need."

Tooru nods, ducking back under the water. The rushing of the waterfall crescendoes the closer he gets. When he stands, the water laps at his chest. He takes the last remaining steps toward the waterfall, holding his breath as he presses his way inside.

It's like taking an intense shower, the water streaming down his head, his face, the rest of his body. He presses his hands to his face, giving himself a bit of air to breathe. His jaw unclenches, his shoulders relax. With his eyes closed, he drifts into a dream-like trance of nothing except the sounds of the water in his ears and the feel of it washing away his sickness, all his heavy emotions dissipating. For the first time in a long time, he isn't worried about his feelings for Bokuto or what would happen if he did or did not confessed. He doesn't have an underlying sense of guilt because he hasn't returned his mother's calls. He doesn't feel like a failure for dropping out of college. 

He doesn't know if this spring water really has healing properties, but maybe the offering of hope is enough for most people to get better on.

When Tooru steps out of the waterfall, gasping for clear air, he feels so light. He feels almost like himself again.

Bokuto is standing where Tooru left him, his hands trailing back and forth in the water to keep himself occupied. He looks up when Tooru is a few meters away from him. "How was it?"

Tooru looks back over at the unassuming waterfall, then shrugs. "Good. Thanks for this."

Bokuto shrugs. "At this point, I'm just trying to figure out anything that can help you. I don't like seeing you so sick."

This, Tooru knows, would be the perfect moment to confess to Bokuto. He could just open his mouth, the words are right there on the tip of his tongue.

Instead, he yawns. Bokuto chuckles softly. "You should get to sleep. I know you won't take off work tomorrow."

"You're right," Tooru says, he wades to the edge of the bank, then clambers back onto dry ground, Bokuto following behind. He's put out some towels--Tooru wraps himself up in one promptly, because for as warm as it was in the water, it's autumn and cold outside.

"Here," Bokuto says, offering Tooru some sweats and a t-shirt that must belong to him. Tooru takes them gratefully, slipping out of his wet underwear and pulling the dry clothes on. When he turns to look at Bokuto, he is slipping his own shirt on. His cheeks are slightly red, and Tooru wonders if it's from the cold or if Bokuto had peeped on Tooru changing.

In the car, Tooru turns the heat up. Bokuto pulls a blanket out from the backseat, offering it to Tooru. "You came prepared," Tooru says, surprised.

"I didn't want you to be cold for long, so I packed whatever I thought might keep you warm. There's hot chocolate in the thermos."

"You spoil me," Tooru says with a sigh, taking a sip of the hot chocolate, which is still warm. 

"I don't mind," Bokuto says. Tooru doesn't know what possesses him to do it, but Bokuto's hand is so inviting on the console between them that he slips his fingers in between Bokuto's. He holds his breath, waiting for an awkward pull away, but Bokuto just squeezes his fingers, darting a look over at Tooru. Tooru gives a small, shy smile back, tucking himself into the blanket and closing his eyes. In this moment, it almost feels like Bokuto could return his feelings. 

When Tooru comes back to consciousness, he is being jostled into strong, familiar arms. They must be home. He knows he should tell Bokuto he's awake, that he can walk himself, but he feels so warm against Bokuto's body. He isn't subtle as he nuzzles his nose into Bokuto's chest, wrapping his free arm around Bokuto's waist.

Bokuto chuckles softly, but Tooru is already dozing again. He hears the familiar creaking of his front door, the soft hush of the fan he forgot to turn off in his room. He is in a strange, dreamy space as he helps Bokuto get himself into bed, his eyes still closed.

"Night, Tooru," he swears he hears Bokuto whisper, his lips close enough to his forehead that they brush his skin with the words. He likes the sound and the feeling of his name on Bokuto's lips. He wants to ask Bokuto to stay with him, to never leave and just love him back the way Tooru loves him, but the words are caught in Tooru's throat, sticky like sap, heavy like the flowers that he's usually growing in his chest.

When he opens his eyes again, Bokuto is definitely gone. He turns away from the door, trying to fall back into that warm feeling he'd felt in the spring in Bokuto's arms. He finally falls asleep but not before two tears track down his cheeks.

***

When Tooru wakes up, his chest still feels light. He presses his hands against it just to make sure something horrible hasn't happened, but it's just him and no urge to cough. He clears his throat just in case, but everything is clear.

Warily, he gets ready for the day. It's slow at the shop, especially because Bokuto doesn't come to visit. Tooru goes back home, eats dinner to the sound of a laugh track, then goes about plucking and packaging his plants. He doesn't have any strange, sudden surges of growth. The same thing happens again, and again, until almost a full week has past. He bottles and completes Bokuto's love potion, refusing to think about the implications. His chest tightens, but it's nothing more than normal jealousy. Everything seems to be back to normal.

And then Tooru almost chokes to death on the damn flowers he'd thought were gone in front of Bokuto.

The day starts just as the rest of them had. Tooru, waking up, getting ready, going to the shop. Checking his phone twelve times an hour to see if Bokuto has texted him saying he's going to visit. Waffling on whether or not today was the day he was going to give Bokuto his promised love potion, or maybe his confession. Trying to act cool and sophisticated in front of his customers when Bokuto tells him he's on his way when all Tooru wants to do is grin like an idiot, and maybe squeal for good measure.

Maybe he's a little more tired than usual, but that really isn't new. Tooru is perennially tired. Okay, and maybe that day he feels like he could fall asleep standing up. And maybe his plants are growing a little faster than usual. He definitely doesn't ignore the bindweeds that suddenly start growing up his arms and taking over his hair. 

When Bokuto comes in, he's whistling cheerfully. Tooru bites the inside of his cheek to stop his grin from spreading too far on his face. He blinks slowly. For the past hour, Tooru has slowly crept his way into a strange sort of haze, as if he isn't getting enough air and everything is shimmery.

"Hey, hey!" Bokuto says with his normal bright smile. It dims slightly when he sees Tooru. Tooru frowns. He doesn't like that look on Bokuto's face. "Hey. Are you okay?"

"Oh, yeah," Tooru says, a beat too late. Concerned, Bokuto steps around the counter, pushing Tooru onto the stool behind him. Tooru takes a deep breath, then another. "I'm just...tired? Yeah, tired."

"You sound tired," Bokuto says slowly. Tooru feels Bokuto's hand on his forehead. He presses into the touch, a sunflower leaning toward the sun. His chest is tight, tight, tight, the world blurry, dreamy, and wavering. "I'll take you home. You can close early tonight, right?"

Tooru hums an affirmative, but he doesn't move. After a few seconds (minutes? hours? years?) Bokuto gently tugs on Tooru's arm until he stands, reluctantly. The world sways. He feels a swelling in his throat, a tickling, burning feeling he's become used to but has been blessedly gone for most of the week. He feels Bokuto's fingers lace in his and tug him toward the door.

"Oh," Tooru murmurs, blinking his eyes to try and focus them. He coughs a few times, a wet, hacking sound. The flowers stay stubbornly in his throat. Good thing, too. He can't have Bokuto knowing. "I finished your love potion. Here, let me just..."

Tooru's fingers scrabble for the vial of potion he put on the shelf behind the counter. As his hand wraps around it, his coughing comes back full force. He gasps, releasing the potion. The vial bounces on the floor, rolling to a stop against the counter, completely intact.

Tooru, however, is not. He feels like he's splintering apart. His vision blackens as he coughs so hard he is sure all of his insides are about to come out.

"Shit, Tooru!" Bokuto says. It sounds like he's speaking from underwater, the ringing in Tooru's ears is so loud. He gags, coughing so hard he doubles over. He feels Bokuto's hands on his back, rubbing soothing circles as Tooru finally heaves up an entire flower--two yellow tulips this time, big and perfectly intact. He wonders what that one means.

After he has purged the flower, his body settles down, his brain clearing and his eyes sharpening. He wonders when they ended up on the ground, Tooru leaning against Bokuto, panting softly. His throat is raw and aching, his body exhausted. He just wants to curl into Bokuto's strong chest and take a long nap. He might just want to lay down and die of embarrassment too, now that Bokuto has watched him vomit flowers. How disgusting.

"Hey," Bokuto says, his voice quiet and serious enough that Tooru looks up at him. He hadn't noticed that he'd dropped the flowers, but Bokuto now has them cupped in his hands. The petals are a little wrinkled; the two flowers look so delicate framed in Bokuto's hands. He winces as Bokuto smooths his fingers over the wet petals. "Do nymphs have a lot of diseases where they start coughing up flowers, or just hanahaki?"

A yellow rose blossoms on Tooru's wrist. He winces as thorns dig into his skin, an unforgiving bracelet. Before he can do anything, Bokuto's fingers are untangling the vine, firm but gentle. When had he become so adept at how to take care of Tooru's flowers? "God, I haven't grown flowers out of control like this since puberty," Tooru says with a hoarse laugh as if Bokuto hasn't watched him sprout random flowers for weeks, trying to lighten the mood.

Bokuto gives him a small smile. Tooru frowns. He looks...regretful. "It's because you're in love with someone, huh? You should tell them! I don't know why they wouldn't accept your confession, you're so ambitious and funny and beautiful, even when you're scary. And I can help!"

Tooru gives an exhausted chuckle that sounds more like he's wheezing. He rests his head against Bokuto's strong shoulder, feels him stiffen at the gesture but he doesn't want to pull away. He thinks he'll give himself at least this comfort. "I don't know if you can help me out with this one. And that's okay. You're making love potions for someone else, and I should have listened to my instincts when they told me to tell you not to help."

"Wait," Bokuto says. He grasps onto Tooru's shoulders, pulling him away from him. The weight of his hands are warm and solid, grounding Tooru's dimming thoughts. "You think I'm making this potion for _me?_ " 

Tooru pouts when Bokuto throws his head back and laughs. He feels like he's being made fun of. "No, no. I'm making it _for_ Kuroo. As in, his dumb ass is in love with Akaashi, but he's too much of a coward to say anything, so I thought if I bought a potion for one to give to the other, they'd finally just figure out they're in love with each other. And Kuroo's birthday was closest, so it was going to him."

Bokuto takes a deep breath. Tooru feels his hands clench on his shoulders for a second as if in nervousness. "I'm...I actually really like you. I have for a long time, probably since the first time we came in here and I saw you had those flowers growing in your hair. I hope...I hope that's okay."

The only thing that Tooru can think to do after Bokuto's confession is raise his hand, press it into his hair that is filled with flowers he'd never grown before meeting Bokuto. Flowers of love and desperation and sorrow and curiosity.

Tooru takes entirely too long to answer, so Bokuto shrugs, his mouth and eyes turning self-conscious. "Anyway, that's why I'll help you! Because I'd rather you be alive and with someone else than dead because you don't think you should impose."

"You dolt," Tooru says, pressing his fingers to his lips to stop from laughing. He blinks away excess water from his eyes. Bokuto creases his eyebrows, confused. Tooru smiles. He can't help it. "You idiot! It's you. Who else do I spend literally every day with? Why would I stand under a waterfall at midnight during a full moon to make you feel better if it wasn't you!? You, Bokuto Koutarou, are the person I'm turning into flowers for."

Bokuto doesn't do anything for the longest time, just sits and stares at Tooru with his wide, golden eyes. Tooru can't help the laugh that escapes his lips this time. His chest feels lighter than it has in weeks. Maybe his body has stopped turning his unrequited love into flowers that quickly.

Then, suddenly, Bokuto gathers him into a bone-crushing hug. Tooru laughs again.

"Bokkun, my arms are stuck, let me..."

Bokuto relaxes his hold just enough for Tooru to disentangle his arms and reciprocate Bokuto's hug. After a few seconds, Bokuto pulls away again, just slightly, just enough for Tooru to look up into his face. Bokuto's hand comes to rest on Tooru's cheek, his thumb brushing Tooru's bottom lip. Tooru parts his lips slightly in anticipation. "I can't believe this is actually happening. You are so beautiful, you know."

"Then maybe you should kiss me," Tooru suggests. Bokuto grins, leans in close. Tooru closes his eyes, feels the press of Bokuto's lips on his. It's a chaste, hesitant thing, gently unfurling as they become comfortable with each other. Tooru moves his hand to cup Bokuto's neck, turns his head slightly and opens his mouth further, shivering when Bokuto reciprocates eagerly. Bokuto wraps one arm around Tooru's back, pulling him closer. The other hand tangles itself into Tooru's hair, and Tooru grins. It's safe to say that Bokuto is a little fascinated with that feature of his.

After a few minutes, or hours maybe, Bokuto breaks away from him. "Wow," he says.

"That better be a good wow," Tooru teases, humming as Bokuto's fingers stroke through his flowers and his hair.

"It is!" Bokuto promises. "But I still think you should get home and get some rest. You're still sick!"

Tooru smiles and allows Bokuto to pull him up. He kisses Bokuto again. "I think I'm about to feel much better," he whispers, laughing when Bokuto throws his arms around him and kisses him a few more times. It's better than Tooru had ever imagined.

***

A month later, Tooru is standing in a gym, on a volleyball court, for the first time in years. He's still a little sensitive about the fact that he is the only one there not playing on some team or another, but Bokuto has offered to join a rec league with him, if he wants. For the first time since he'd dropped out of school, leaving volleyball behind, he's seriously considering it.

Bokuto springs to his feet as soon as he sees Tooru, waving wildly. Tooru rolls his eyes, but he waves back.

"You two are obnoxious," Hanamaki says, miming a gag. Tooru smacks him in the stomach with the flat of his hand, glaring at Iwaizumi and Matsukawa, daring them to say anything. When they don't, he throws himself at Bokuto and gives him a sloppy kiss, just to spite Hanamaki.

Kuroo and Akaashi are also there. They're together now, because Bokuto couldn't wait another month to give Kuroo the potion. Tooru doesn't know all the details of the debacle that took place, but he does know that the outcome was positive. They've all hung out together a few times, and Tooru is happy with how well his and Bokuto's friend groups get along. It helps that they all have a common interest in volleyball and real life drama.

"We're meeting your parents after this, yeah?" Bokuto asks as they start stretching.

Tooru moans. "Yes. God, I can't believe you told my mother I got hanahaki. Now she's going to be, like _involved_ in my life."

"You should have told her yourself," Bokuto says, his voice lightly scolding. "She seemed really worried about you. She even came and ran the shop while you were recovering."

After Tooru and Bokuto had confessed to each other, the flowers inside of him went away, but Tooru still had a lot of mending to do. Turns out, overgrowth took a lot of stamina. Tooru still felt weak every now and again, the flowers in his hair recovering just as slowly as he was. And it was Tooru's fault for having his mother on speaker phone when Bokuto was at his place--Bokuto couldn't keep a secret to save his life, so when Tooru's mother had asked how they'd met, the story had come right out. Needless to say, she'd dropped everything and come back to Sendai for a week to make sure her baby was all right.

"Hey, lovebirds, let's go!" Iwaizumi shouts across the gym. Tooru sends him a rude gesture. Bokuto laughs, standing up and holding out a hand for Tooru to take.

"Hey," Tooru says quickly, before Bokuto turns away. "Thanks. For, you know. Everything. Even making me talk to my parents again. You've taken such good care of me, since the day we met. I love you."

Bokuto reaches up, tweaking a few strands of Tooru's hair. "Love you too," he says back, kissing his cheek quickly. "But that isn't going to stop me from beating your ass on the volleyball court. I want to see if I can receive that mean serve everyone's told me about."

Tooru give him a beatific smile. "Don't think because I'm your boyfriend I'm going to go easy on you."

"I wouldn't expect you to," Bokuto says, giving Tooru's cheek one last kiss before he jogs to the far side of the court. Tooru joins Iwaizumi and Hanamaki on their side.

"You got this, captain!" Matsukawa shouts from the sideline, throwing the volleyball at Tooru. He catches it, the texture of the ball on his fingers bringing back so many memories. Surprisingly, most of them are happy. He points at Bokuto, across from him, and cocks his eyebrow.

"Bring it on!" Bokuto hoots with a grin, and Tooru throws the ball up into the air to serve, and for the first time in a long time, he feels perfectly content where he is.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments/kudos always welcome!


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